Dawnlark Plains give me blood and rage and a heart for horror

Cascada does not change her path when she sees the smudge in the distance developing into a wolf. At first, she does not give the other much attention but when she realizes she’s getting closer with intent, her ears slick back and she’s glancing in her direction until it is too obvious an interaction is bound to happen. She slows to a stop, ignoring the throbbing ache of her feet. When they are on the move, they start to numb but standing in place is a reminder of what she’s always running from.

“Hey,” she says soon after, nodding her head a little and offering an equally friendly shake of her tail. She is free from Silvertip in this meeting as well as that of a child, finding a little comfort in the unknown (and adult) before her. Cascada thinks her scent may be familiar but the distance she has traveled puts a stop to the notion and she brushes away the thought. “I’m Cascada,” she introduces a beat later.